


casket fresh

by neocxxlture



Series: last night [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Drinking, M/M, billiards! poker!, but it's lowkey, in short: Be Gay Do Crime, past johnil, sadness!!, the "what happens to taeil when he leaves taeyong in 'last night'" side story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 05:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19940632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neocxxlture/pseuds/neocxxlture
Summary: Donghyuck meets his eyes across the table, and he must understand Taeil’s momentary confusion somehow, because he says, “It wouldn’t really be fun otherwise, would it?”





	casket fresh

**Author's Note:**

> /regular plays bass boosted in the background/
> 
> this fic touches upon and references topics and events that happened in the first installment of this series, so i’d suggest you read that as well so you’d have the full picture 💓  
> [visuals for taeil and hyuck](https://twitter.com/kunyongx/status/1151564174532796416)

🃏

Taeil doesn’t want to leave, but Youngho makes him. It’s his nervous fussing that gets Taeil moving.

It’s the way Youngho says, frustrated and tense and leaving no room for argument, “Pack your things. We need to get out of here.”

Taeil doesn’t understand. It takes three tries for him to get Youngho to tell him what’s wrong, and another grab at his arms to still Youngho from his frantic pacing around the room. “Why?”

It seems like it takes all that Youngho has within him to stay calm as he talks, “Because if we don’t, we’re going to be in a lot of trouble.”

Youngho explains what he knows to Taeil: word has gotten to him that some people are looking to get at Taeil and hurt him. He doesn’t know why exactly, but it has got something to do with Taeil’s jobs, obviously. Taeil asks how Youngho knows, and Youngho simply answers, “I got a call and a tip.”

Taeil doesn’t know who exactly Youngho fraternizes with, but he knows that his network of contacts is vast. The people Youngho has access to are different than Taeil’s crowd – Taeil’s contacts are assets to help him when he needs it, hackers, weapons masters, sleight of hand artists and so on. Youngho’s people are colleagues of sorts, friends, _family_ ; not related by blood, but by their work. Trading in information and secrets.

What Youngho says to him makes little to no sense. Taeil can’t imagine who would be after him; he was always careful enough to not leave any traces of himself, on any scene. Taeil has been doing this for as long as he can remember, and he is frankly the best there is – he supposes he should feel offended that Youngho would think him stupid enough to leave a trail behind himself that anyone could follow to get to him.

When he says as much, however, it is obvious from the expression on Youngho’s face that he doesn’t believe him. It makes something within Taeil hurt. He thought Youngho knew him better than that. He says, “We don’t need to leave.”

Youngho stops in his tracks and looks at him like it’s the first time he ever laid eyes on him. “What?”

“We don’t need to leave. Whatever this is, I can figure it out.” He says, confident in his words and in his ability, even if Youngho might not be. “I can handle it.”

Youngho rakes a hand through his hair in a gesture that is telling of a fraying patience and his voice sounds harsher than Taeil has ever heard it before, “You don’t seem to get it. This is serious.”

“I _am_ serious,” Taeil doesn’t raise his voice, but speaks firmly. “I can take care of it.”

Youngho lets out an exhale, “We don’t have time for your shit, Taeil, we _need_ to _go_.”

Taeil tries to argue only one more time, and Youngho tunes him out in favor of packing his bag. After a minute of standing around, Taeil is compelled to do the same. If Youngho is leaving, Taeil is going to go with him, because he doesn’t want to be left behind. Taeyong isn’t around as much as he used to anymore and Taeil doesn’t want to stay here alone while Youngho moves on.

He packs two suitcases and one backpack’s worth of belongings and doesn’t care that some things will need to be abandoned. Shirts and pants and shoes – he can get more whenever he feels like it. They load the luggage in the car, stuffing the trunk full until no more fits in and putting the rest of it on the backseats.

Youngho gets them on the road with a violent jerk of the vehicle and a screech of tires on the asphalt as soon as they’re seated. Taeil looks back through the window at the house he lived in the last couple of years and knows he won’t be coming back.

“What am I supposed to tell Taeyong?” he asks when he returns his gaze back to the road in front of them.

Youngho barks back, “Tell him we’re moving. Don’t tell him where.”

Taeil takes his phone out of his pocket but stops with his fingers hovering above the screen as soon as he unlocks it. He asks, “Where are we going, though?”

It takes a moment for Youngho to reply. He keeps one hand on the wheel, and he runs the fingers of his free hand through his hair. “To the airport. I have a friend in California. We’ll stay with him until we can figure out what to do next.”

When more isn’t forthcoming, Taeil unlocks his phone again, and finds Taeyong’s contact. He types out a message, short but sufficient for now: _we’ll be out of town for a while. call u later._

🃏

As soon as they board Youngho’s private jet, Taeil tries to get more information out of him. Taeyong’s message came through almost as soon as Taeil sent his first text, and he sounded as confused as Taeil himself felt. _Where are you going?? Why?_

Youngho pours himself some liquor that he finds prepared for him on board and throws back a full glass before he turns his eyes on Taeil and the sharpness in them makes Taeil’s chest ache. “Why don’t you tell me why anyone would be coming for your neck?”

Taeil’s been repeating the same thing over and over and still Youngho doesn’t seem to believe him. Something cold takes root in Taeil’s veins and refuses to leave. “I told you. I don’t know.”

It’s quite clear that Youngho is convinced that Taeil’s isn’t telling the truth. It doesn’t stop tugging on Taeil’s heart, doesn’t stop feeling like a thousand knives in his back. “I thought we promised to always be honest with each other.”

They did; they whispered it to each other’s skin in the dead of night. Youngho trusted Taeil with his secrets and Taeil never kept anything from him even when his clients demanded complete silence. Taeil never lied – not to Youngho, not to anyone. “I am,” he says, tone inflectionless even as he tightens his hands into fists in his lap, because he knows the effort is fruitless.

Youngho shakes his head at him, disappointment and frustration and something else visible in every inch of his face. When he speaks again, it’s after a silent moment that feels like an eternity, and his tone comes out softer, “I’m trying to help you, Taeil.”

Taeil’s breath leaves him in one harsh exhale. He makes himself relax. In the end, Youngho is his friend. Youngho continues, “I’m trying to keep you alive. Keep us all alive.”

Taeil doesn’t bother answering. He simply nods his head and looks out of the window. When Youngho offers him a glass, he takes it in numb fingers, and they don’t speak again until they’re on the ground.

🃏

Youngho’s friend is called Ten, and Taeil doesn’t really like him when he meets him for the first time.

Ten is as charming as a person can be. He is the owner of a hotel at the heart of the city and a club right next door. It doesn’t take Taeil too long to understand that Youngho and Ten both dabble in the same line of work.

Youngho only introduces Ten as his _former partner,_ but there is something in the way Ten looks at Youngho that speaks volumes to a shared history much more complicated than simple business partnership. Ten is all sharp, knowing stares, delicate features and deadly smiles. He looks at Taeil in a way that makes the hair on Taeil’s arms stand on end. It feels like he sees through him, right to Taeil’s very core.

Taeil lets Youngho and Ten talk, and stands a bit to the side, too unnerved to stand closer to Ten. It doesn’t take long for Youngho to explain to him, simply, that they’re in a difficult situation and need him to help them lay low for a while. Ten is happy to help; he gives them keys to one of the VIP suites, free of any charge, and has his lackeys take their luggage up upfront while Ten leads them to the parlor to relax and have a drink.

In the privacy of the parlor Ten’s smile finally slips off his face, replaced by a stone-cold indifference. He sits across from Youngho in a chair, while Taeil and Youngho make themselves comfortable on a sofa, each sitting at one end. Ten asks why they’re really there, and Youngho trusts him enough to tell him the truth, “We’re running away.”

Ten frowns, “From?”

Youngho sends a quick look Taeil’s way, “I don’t know. He won’t say.”

Taeil doesn’t bother wasting his breath on telling him he doesn’t know any more than Youngho does.

Youngho throws back his drink more forcefully than the situation requires, like he’s angry at Taeil, but when he speaks his voice retains its usual calmness, “I have people working on it. We should know more soon.”

Ten holds his own glass in one slender hand, and Taeil eyes the rings that adorn his fingers, the way they sparkle in the subdued light of the room. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Taeil doesn’t participate in their conversation unless he is spoken to or they ask him a direct question. They talk about people that Taeil doesn’t know, so he lets them catch up while he mentally thinks about all his jobs and tries to find a single instance where he could have slipped, where he could have made a mistake, but as hard as he tries he cannot think of anything.

Something dark and uneasy takes root in the pit of his stomach. On the heels of that feeling there is fear, slowly trickling all over him as it really sets in him – he is being looked for, hunted. He just _ran away,_ from something or someone, and he has no idea why or who could be after him.

🃏

A clear answer doesn’t come for months.

Youngho and Taeil live in the suite. At first it’s only for a couple of weeks, Youngho says, before they decide what to do next – he says his contact will call soon, surely, to let them know what’s going on. Weeks pass, but the line stays silent.

They meet Taeyong again, once or twice. Youngho doesn’t want Taeyong to know anything weird is going on, so when Taeyong calls to invite them to hang out, they board Youngho’s jet and take off for New York. Taeil lets Youngho lie to Taeyong about him opening up another club on the California shore – better business opportunities, he says. The lies make Taeil’s skin crawl. He wants to tell Taeyong that it’s not true, but he cannot make himself. He and Youngho had a conversation about it on the plane during the flight over – keeping to their lie and keeping Taeyong in the dark would ensure that he would be safe. Taeil isn’t quite certain that is the case, but he doesn’t have the energy in him for another fight.

He and Youngho fight a lot, these days. It’s never heated, and neither of them ever raises their voice. Hearing the disappointment in Youngho’s words is much harsher than any screaming he could direct Taeil’s way, however. It leaves Taeil with an open hole in his chest and a corrosion at the center of his heart. Taeil knows the second Youngho stops sleeping in their suite that he and Ten resumed whatever partnership they had going on and he quietly convinces himself that it’s better this way and to let him go.

It hurts for a while, but then that hurt is replaced by apathy. Youngho stays his friend; still stays by his side and still tries to help, and Taeil pretends that it’s enough.

There are times when Taeil questions everything that Youngho claims to be true. When months pass and nothing happens – no phone calls with information, no sketchy people at his door, nothing – he starts to think that maybe somehow Youngho tricked him but try as he might he cannot figure out any sort of motive. He doesn’t come to resent Youngho enough to think that Youngho wouldn’t want Taeil to be safe – he believes that that part of it is true. Youngho is convinced that he is helping keep Taeil out of harm’s way. Taeil is starting to think that there must be much more to it than it seems at first glance.

He starts to frequent Ten’s club. There is a direct backstage passage that he can take from the hotel’s VIP lounge right to the club’s VIP lounge, and Ten has long ago given him the permission to use it. Ten’s club screams luxury and wealth more than Youngho’s did – it is in every ornate decoration lining the walls, in every material of the furniture ranging from leather to marble to dark wood. There are more rooms than there were in Youngho’s club, too – there is a private pool, a cinema, a room reserved solely for billiards, and more rooms reserved for all sorts of games.

There is also a bar, at which Taeil finds himself more often than not. He claims a chair as his and spends his evenings there, nursing a drink in silence. No one bothers him or talks to him much, save for the bartender. Taeil knows his limits, so he always drinks only until his head reaches a pleasant hum, but not enough that he would get drunk.

It would be easy, to rob a joint like this. Taeil can walk into any room and figure out a way in and a way out undetected in a matter of minutes. He passes long lonely evenings sitting at the bar making plans that will never be carried out. He fantasizes about it; how simple it would really be. He knows every single position of a camera, every nook and cranny. He knows which door leads to which room and knows which lead outside. He observes the security for a few evenings and figures out the patterns of their patrol and all the weapons that they carry and keep hidden on their persons.

His veins itch with need and want but he knows that he cannot afford to pull a stunt like that. Youngho would chew him out. Daydreaming about it is going to have to suffice for the time being, even if it makes Taeil buzz with displeasure.

One night, the bartender brings him a drink that he definitely did not order. It is the same one Taeil is still sipping from now from his own glass, and when he turns curious eyes on the bartender to ask why he brought him another when he didn’t ask for it, the bartender nods with his head to the side of the bar and gives a tiny, tight smile, before he leaves to attend to other customers.

Taeil follows where the bartender pointed and finds, right opposite him, a man. He is taller than Taeil, even sitting down, broader, younger. He is dressed in clothes that betray wealth, but ones that compliment his build. His hair is a shimmery shade of silver and his fringe falls into his eyes. There are no accessories on his ears or on his fingers, but there is a tattoo at the side of his neck, a simple design of the sun.

He is looking at Taeil. When their eyes meet, he dips his own glass in a gesture of a greeting or a _bottoms up,_ gives him a smile, and waits. Taeil is frozen in place for a moment. The last person to buy him a drink had been Youngho, but that feels like it was so long ago now the squirming feeling in Taeil’s stomach takes him off-guard. He slowly takes the new glass between his own fingers, and the young man throws his own shot back, puts the glass on the bar, and gets up from his chair.

Taeil watches as he puts a jacket over his silk shirt and leaves. He keeps his eyes on the door long after the man is gone. He doesn’t know why he feels disappointed.

🃏

The first piece of information comes in the form of a phone call, finally. They’re both in the lounge with Ten when Youngho’s phone rings and Taeil knows, somehow, that this is it – this is the call they’ve been waiting for. Youngho gets up and excuses himself to take it somewhere more private, and Taeil is left alone with Ten for the time being it takes him to come back.

He and Ten don’t speak to each other, but Ten levels Taeil with a considering look and Taeil meets his eyes defiantly in silent challenge. It isn’t enough to get a rise out of Ten, and after a minute, Ten grows bored of their staring contest, so he busies himself with his own phone until Youngho returns.

What he says isn’t what Taeil is expecting to hear. “They got to Taeyong.”

Taeil thinks he must have misheard him, somehow. It takes him a second to find his voice, “What?”

Youngho doesn’t look at him, “They beat him up. They were looking for you, but they weren’t able to get your location, and for some reason they let him go.” The accusation in his words is clear. Taeil hears the _I told you so_ even when Youngho doesn’t say it out loud.

He sits staring at the table in front of him, “When?” he rasps out.

“A few days ago.”

Taeil gets to his feet, “I need to speak to him.” They don’t call back after him when he leaves.

In his room he finds his phone, and his address book. He got rid of his old phone and number, but always kept all his contacts on paper and on him in case he might need them. He finds Taeyong’s number, dials it with trembling fingers, and puts the phone to his ear.

It rings for so long he worries Taeyong might not pick up, and he almost sobs in relief when he does and Taeil hears Taeyong’s soft voice.

“I’m sorry,” Taeil says, and feels like he’s being ripped apart from the inside out, “Tae, I’m so sorry.”

Taeyong says he’s fine. He says that they were asking about Taeil, wanted to know where he is – he asks what Taeil has done and where he is, but Taeil doesn’t have any answers for him. Youngho was right, after all. Leaving Taeyong meant keeping him safe. As much as it hurts, he knows he can’t go back to him. Knows that Taeyong will fare better on his own. “I need to go, Tae. I need to – I can’t stay.”

“But you’re already gone,” comes Taeyong’s voice, a whisper or a plea.

Taeil closes his eyes and wills himself to speak. “I have things to take care of.” A pause, and then, “I don’t think we’ll ever meet again.“

Taeyong doesn’t answer, but the silence is telling. Before Taeil hangs up, he whispers to the receiver, “Take care.”

He doesn’t know how longs he sits on the floor, after that. It seems like hours before Youngho opens the door to the suite. He sees Taeil on the floor, but whatever he sees on Taeil’s face, he decides not to comment on it. He closes the door behind himself and crosses the room to him, and when he speaks it sounds softer than it did in all the months they’ve been living here. “We should talk about this.”

Taeil wants to tell him to get lost. He wants to scream at him and fight him and throw him out and never see him again. There is a part of him that still feels slighted, because if Youngho trusted him, if he listened back then, Taeil could have prevented all of this. He would have dealt with it – _him,_ not anyone else. Not Taeyong. Taeyong didn’t deserve this.

He averts his gaze and nods his head.

Youngho waits for him to get up off the floor, but when it becomes obvious Taeil isn’t moving, he just heaves a sigh and lowers himself onto one of the chairs nearby. “I’m going to need you to be honest with me, okay?”

Taeil voices his assent, even as he feels his heart sink further in his chest. Youngho isn’t looking for the truth. He’s already decided what the truth is on his own. Taeil isn’t about to lie, however. This conversation is quickly turning into a disaster, and it didn’t even fully begin yet.

“Who did you steal from, in Jersey?”

Taeil frowns at him, “I’ve never been to New Jersey.”

Youngho is motionless on the sofa, freakishly so. “Taeil,” he says, a threat undeniable in his tone.

Taeil knows that Jersey was always close, when they were living in New York. He knows that Youngho won’t believe him, but he finds that he’s angry – at Youngho, at himself, at this entire mess of a situation he found himself in – and he cannot keep his mouth shut. “Why would I lie to you? What good would that do me?” He doesn’t wait for Youngho to reply. “I’ve never been to Jersey. I haven’t had a job there. Whatever you think happened there, whatever your contacts dug up and told you, it wasn’t me.”

Youngho considers him, “It’s got your signature all over it. It’s your handiwork.”

But it _can’t be._ He only repeats, “It wasn’t me.”

Youngho throws at him, “If not you, then who?”

And that’s it, isn’t it? If not Taeil, then who? “Someone’s obviously trying to pin this on me.”

Youngho’s brow furrows, “No one’s good enough to pull this off. No one can come even close to your level.”

“Well,” Taeil says, the fight leaving his body at once, “someone has.”

Silence settles between them, as they both ponder over what this would mean, if it turns out to be true. It’s minutes before Youngho gets up and walks to the door. He stops just in front of it, fingers on the handle. He doesn’t look at Taeil when he speaks. “If I find out it was you that did this all along, and you lied to me,” his tone is chilling. “I will kill you myself.”

The door slams shut behind him, and Taeil is alone.

🃏

His feet carry him down the stairs and to the bar before he can even register he’s moving.

He knocks back three shots before he calms down enough to think. A complicated emotion blooms within his chest – a mix of confusion and curiosity and jealousy. For years he’s been the _best_ of the best. No one else could compare, Taeil was at the top, a self-made king. No one challenged him because they knew they just weren’t good enough; Taeil was always smarter and faster and more skilled and always at least three steps ahead while everyone else scrambled to catch up with him.

Now someone is trying for his crown, and it’s not even with their own skill – they’re stealing Taeil’s own to best him. He doesn’t know whether to be impressed or pissed off, but he manages to be equal parts both.

He’s lost in his thoughts, going over the last few years in his head, all the people he’s met and worked with, anyone that would hold a grudge and would want to get him killed. He startles when the bartender puts a glass in front of him, and he remembers the last time this happened, so he knows where to look when the bartender turns away from him.

Just as Taeil expects, it’s the young man from before. He sits at the same place he sat last time he bought Taeil’s drink, but his clothes are different – now he’s wearing a shirt in red, almost the shade of Taeil’s hair. His hair is permed and looks exceptionally soft; everything about him seems soft and gentle. When their eyes meet, he gifts Taeil with a reserved, but warm smile. Taeil smiles back, slowly.

The man stands up from his seat, but instead of leaving the way he did last time, he walks over to Taeil.

When he stops at Taeil’s side, Taeil’s heartbeat stutters in his chest. He takes the drink he was given in one hand and dips his head the slightest bit down, “Thank you.”

His new companion answers in a slow drawl, and his voice is melodic, soft, just as pretty as he is, “My pleasure.”

Before Taeil can say more, the man looks somewhere behind Taeil, “Ah, excuse me, it seems that my friends have arrived.”

Taeil nods, and watches as he takes a step back and is about to walk away when he stops and looks at Taeil like he’s thinking something over. “Actually,“ he says, slowly, “would you like to join us for a game of billiards?“ He adds, before Taeil can really make up his mind whether or not to take him up on the offer, “You look like you might need a distraction.“

Taeil weighs the pros and cons in a split seconds and decides a game of billiards couldn’t hurt, “Alright.“ Taeil gets to his feet as well, and before they can set off for one of the adjoining game rooms, extends his hand, “I’m Taeil.“

The man looks at him for a moment before clasping his hand in a handshake, “You can call me Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck,” Taeil repeats, testing the sound of it on his tongue. “Lead the way.”

Taeil walks just behind Donghyuck and lets him take him to one of the rooms. It is big enough to house three billiards tables, but currently only one of them is occupied by a group of three people, who at first glance all seem to be Donghyuck’s age.

Donghyuck introduces them to Taeil one by one. He shakes hands with them in order of Jeno, Renjun, Jaemin. It doesn’t escape Taeil’s notice that they send curious glances Donghyuck’s way, but neither of them questions why he brought Taeil along and they don’t seem to mind that he’s imposing on their space.

They play a few rounds of the game. It becomes obvious quite soon into the first one that Taeil is better at it than they are, but they’re competitive and take it in stride. He lets the four of them carry on easy conversation and only contributes when they ask him a question, because he’s not quite sure how to mingle in with them otherwise.

It feels nice, though, to be with people who aren’t Ten or Youngho. It feels nice to talk to someone else and not worry about more than how he needs to angle his cue and how hard he needs to strike the white ball. Donghyuck makes sure he’s having fun, and Taeil is surprised to find that he _is_ having a genuine good time after what feels like a lifetime without it.

They part ways in the lobby. Donghyuck asks him where he lives and Taeil tells him a half-truth, “Just staying at the hotel. I’m here on vacation.”

Donghyuck smiles, and replies, “What a coincidence.” Taeil cannot tell whether he means it or not. “We’re here on vacation too.”

🃏

That night, Taeil can’t sleep.

He finds himself slipping out of bed and walking to one of the windows to look at the sprawling night city below. He can’t stop thinking about the previous evening, and about the people he met; mostly he can’t stop thinking about Donghyuck. How ready he was to include Taeil in their group, how he made sure Taeil was enjoying himself, even if they were practically strangers to each other. It’s been some time since anyone made an effort to be nice to Taeil, and he’s forgotten what it felt like to be cared for in this way.

There is an itch under his skin. It burns its way through his veins until his entire body is alight with it. He puts his palm to the window in front of him and lets the crisp cold of it seep through his skin and steady him.

He thinks about how long it’s been since he was out there, in the world, free to do what he pleased. It must have been a year now, but the weeks and the months all blur together when he’s cooped up in here. He doesn’t even recall what day it is.

Taeil wants to _go,_ but he knows that he can’t. He also knows, painfully so, that without this – without his work, without doing what he does best – he is nothing. He is a no-one with too much money on his hands to know what to do with. Youngho used to question him about it, whenever Taeil decided on another job – wasn’t what he had already enough? Taeil made millions of it but he still wasn’t satisfied. What Youngho never understood was that to Taeil it wasn’t ever about the money.

The only person that ever came close to understanding was Taeyong, but even he only got it to a certain degree. For Taeyong it was always more about the taking than it was the pure skill of it. It was about acquiring that which he didn’t possess before and keeping it for himself forever. Taeil would give up everything he had if it meant he could go out there and do another job again.

After a long moment of standing at the window in silent contemplation, he decides to go down to the bar.

It’s the middle of the night, long after midnight, certainly, but the club is open twenty-four seven and there are still people there, hanging out. Taeil surveys the main room and finds, with a bit of regret, that Donghyuck is not there. A bit surprisingly, though, Taeil spots Youngho sitting at one of the secluded tables at the back of the room. He is alone.

Taeil shouldn’t go over. He knows that he isn’t in the right state of mind now to confront Youngho, but his feet carry him over before his mind can catch up with his actions and put a stop to them. He sits down in a chair right across from Youngho and Youngho looks at him with surprise written across his face, like Taeil was the last person he expected to see just then.

There is a second of silence, and then Taeil asks, “How much longer do we have to stay in hiding?”

Youngho levels him with a glare that could freeze, “Why, are you getting bored with all the free services you’re getting?”

Taeil ignores that. “I just,” He says, “Want to go back.”

There is a pause, as Youngho considers that response. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, “After all that happened, you’d return?” At Taeil’s shrug, his tone acquires a whole new cutting edge, “You seriously haven’t had enough yet?“

They promised to always be honest with each other. “No.”

Youngho shakes his head, and huffs out something that could be considered a laugh, if it wasn’t so cold, “You know, after all I’ve done for you, the least you could do is not make my effort to keep you alive go to waste.“

Taeil has the retort at the tip of his tongue: _you think you kept me alive, but_ _this isn’t really living._ He swallows those words back and says instead, “I am thankful for what you did, but I told you that you didn’t need to. I would have dealt with it on my own.”

“Go ahead, then,” Youngho says, and suddenly it seems like all the fight goes out of him. “Deal with it on your own. I am done with this.”

When no more is forthcoming, Taeil gets up and leaves. Each step he takes towards his room echoes a beat of his heart, and the entire way over he convinces himself that it’s better this way.

🃏

The next time he meets Donghyuck Donghyuck sits by himself at one of the tables lining the wall.

He doesn’t notice Taeil come into the room, and instead of heading right for him Taeil makes his way to the bar. He orders his usual drink, and then points at Donghyuck and says to the bartender, “Bring him one more of whatever he’s having.”

He leans against the bar to wait. The bartender mixes Donghyuck’s drink, and swiftly carries it over to him. Donghyuck looks up at the bartender with surprise written all across his features, and then whips his head around to look across the room. As soon as he spots Taeil, he freezes, and then mirrors the smile that makes its way onto Taeil’s own mouth.

Taeil crosses the room to him, something exciting and bubbly taking root in his veins.

“Alone for the evening?” Taeil asks as he eases himself into the other chair at Donghyuck’s table. “Where are your friends?”

“They moved on. Different part of the city, more exciting places to discover,” he says, and Taeil can’t help but rake his eyes over the features of his entire face, like he can’t get enough of them. “I decided to stay a bit longer. I think there’s more to be found here, still.”

Taeil must silently agree with that – though Taeil wants to find out more about Donghyuck than about anything else. He keeps that to himself, for now.

They go for a game of billiards. It is different when it’s just the two of them now – there is more space for casual conversation. Taeil learns some things about Donghyuck over the course of the evening; that he is the son of an affluent, successful businessman, that he likes travelling, that he has been travelling all over the continent, visiting all sorts of different places. Donghyuck also asks Taeil questions about him and his life, and Taeil tries to answer as honestly as he can while leaving out all the illegal details.

When the topic veers to hobbies and Taeil mentions he has none besides maybe card magic tricks, Donghyuck straightens in interest and rests his cue against the table, “Oh, really? We should get ourselves a pack of cards, then.”

Acquiring a deck of cards is easy. Taeil hasn’t done card magic in a few years, but he’s been doing it for so long when he was growing up that it comes like second nature even now. Donghyuck doesn’t really comment on the tricks Taeil shows him, but he judges by the pleased expression on his face that he is enjoying them at least.

After a few of them Donghyuck levels Taeil with a searching look, “Can you play, though?”

They find themselves at a poker table not too long after. The dealer deals the cards and they begin to play. Donghyuck keeps a smile on his face as the minutes tick by, but even despite his bright expression Taeil has no idea what he’s thinking.

It becomes clear to him a few minutes into the game that they are both cheating. It comes as a surprise, for a second. Taeil just demonstrated magic tricks to Donghyuck and Donghyuck gave no indication that he would know what Taeil did or that he would have seen those tricks before, but right now Taeil is executing a technique and he is almost certain Donghyuck is doing the same thing.

Donghyuck meets his eyes across the table, and he must understand Taeil’s momentary confusion somehow, because he says, “It wouldn’t really be fun otherwise, would it?”

Taeil fights hard to keep his face expressionless and returns his focus to the game at hand. The dealer seems to be none the wiser – Taeil knows how to play underhanded and he hasn’t ever been caught. The fact that Donghyuck can keep up with him is somewhat disorienting, but it also sets Taeil ablaze with a peculiar sense of excitement. When their eyes meet again, Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at him, and Taeil recognizes a challenge when he sees one.

In the end, it is Taeil that wins.

They leave the table and migrate to the bar, and after ordering more drinks for the night Taeil fixes his gaze at Donghyuck. Donghyuck notices, and turns his head to him to ask, “What is it?”

Taeil takes in the features of his face, his bright, unreadable eyes, the slope of his nose, pretty lips. At first glance Donghyuck seems almost innocent, pure. Tonight he proved that he had more than one trick of his own up his sleeve. Taeil has never been so interested to know more about someone. It feels maddening as the need of it takes root all over him. He asks, “Did you let me win?”

Taeil didn’t mean to ask that, but the words come out without his permission. By the slightest hesitation in Donghyuck’s hand as it reaches for his shot glass, he wasn’t expecting the question either. He first knocks the shot back smoothly in one go, puts the glass back, and presses himself close to Taeil so he can speak into his ear.

Taeil’s skin tingles where Donghyuck‘s breath brushes over him, “I didn’t, but I’m flattered that you would think so.“ With that, he retreats, and Taeil has got only a second to recover from his sudden loss of breath before Donghyuck says, “I’ll see you later.“ and leaves.

🃏

Getting ahold of Mark is difficult. He’s always been a bit of a slippery guy.

The phone rings and rings and rings and Mark does not pick up. Two weeks pass before Taeil can finally talk to him.

He is surprised to find out that Mark is staying in Canada. He asks him how he’s doing and is glad when Mark says that life is great. It doesn’t take long for Mark to figure out that Taeil isn’t calling him just to catch up.

“I need you to look into some stuff for me,” Taeil says, “I don’t have access right now, and I don’t trust anyone else with it.”

Mark asks for more details, and Taeil explains the situation to him as quickly but as thoroughly as he can. After he’s done, Mark promises, “I’ll see what I can find.”

Taeil knows that unearthing information about something like this isn’t going to be easy and is aware that Mark must have his hands full of other work, so he says, “No need to rush.” And then, “Thank you.“ before he disconnects.

All he can do now is play the waiting game, so he puts all thoughts of Mark and his messed-up life out of his head and heads downstairs to the pool.

He finds Youngho lounging in one of the chairs near the edge, a cigar in one hand and his phone in the other. He’s wearing only swimwear and a towel hanging over his shoulders. Taeil is surprised to see him there, because it’s been a couple of weeks since they’d last spoken to each other. He thought Youngho wouldn’t bother staying around now that he retracted his protection for Taeil, but Taeil remembers that he’s staying for Ten’s sake.

He approaches him, “Hey.”

Youngho looks up, and his face stays impassive, “Hi.”

“May I?” Taeil motions to the chair next to Youngho, and Youngho nods.

Taeil leaves his towel and keys to his room on the chair but doesn’t bother sitting down. He heads to the pool instead. He swims a couple of lengths before coming out to join Youngho outside again.

They’re quiet for a while, just sitting next to each other. Youngho busies himself with his phone and Taeil watches the other people at the pool – there aren’t many, just three more, two women and a man. They aren’t all that interesting to look at, but Taeil doesn’t want to look at Youngho.

He thinks they might spend the entire time in silence, but in the end Youngho sparks up conversation. It is light, stays at safe topics. Taeil even manages to make Youngho smile with something he says, and Taeil remembers the earlier times, the day they met, the giddy feeling that accompanied him when Youngho took him to his house. It all feels so distant now. They have grown – they have changed. They’re both different people that want different things. Taeil is surprised to find within himself that he’s okay with it.

At some point, Youngho says, “I saw you yesterday. With a—friend?”

Taeil smiles at the mention of Donghyuck, “Yes.”

Youngho’s eyes flick over his face, like he’s looking for something. “Okay,” Youngho says after a moment, and it seems like he wants to comment more about it but instead holds himself back and says only, “You know that I want what’s best for you, right?”

Taeil doesn’t bother telling him that he has no idea what is best for Taeil. It’s no longer his concern, anyway. “I do.”

“Okay,” Youngho repeats, “I’m still your friend. That doesn’t change.” It makes Taeil smile. “You need anything, you can come to me.”

Taeil doesn’t think he will, but he appreciates that Youngho offered in the first place. Taeil didn’t realize how much this vague state that was between them was weighing on him.

He nods and relaxes into his seat.

🃏

Mark calls Taeil with information during the next week.

“There’s not much,” Mark says, “Whoever this is, their style is consistent with yours. There have been more places than just the Borgata in Jersey.”

Taeil doesn’t care about the places, “Is there any trace of them anywhere? Anything at all?”

“I’m not sure,” Mark replies, and Taeil hears the soft scuffle of paper being moved around. “They know how to hide their traces. They don’t necessarily point to you, though. It just _looks_ like your work, but there isn’t a trail that would connect you to it. There is, however,” Mark says slowly, and Taeil perks up, “something odd.”

Taeil feels out of breath, “What is it?”

“It’s a symbol. A signature, maybe. It was left behind at all the places, easy enough to miss if you’re not looking for it. I almost missed it myself.” Mark says, “I’ve run extensive research on it and it turns up nothing. Not even a nickname. This person is a ghost in every sense of the word.”

“They’re good,” Taeil says bitterly, “What does the symbol look like?”

“I’ll send you a picture,” Mark replies, “It’s a symbol of the sun.”

Taeil’s phone vibrates with the message, so Taeil pulls it away from his ear to look at it. He taps the notification, pulls up the picture – and freezes.

Taeil knows this picture. Taeil knows this sun, the exact shape of it. This is the shape of Donghyuck’s tattoo.

Taeil stares at it, motionless, until he hears Mark’s voice coming from the receiver, calling his name.

“Yeah,” he croaks out.

Mark asks, “Everything alright?”

“Yes,” Taeil says, forcing himself to smile. “Thanks. If you come across anything else, let me know.”

“Will do,” Mark says, bids him goodbye and hangs up.

Taeil stares at his phone, without really seeing.

His mind races. He’s trying to make sense of this – of Donghyuck’s tattoo, and how it might fit into everything – and he comes up short. Could it be a coincidence? Taeil guesses that the picture is generic enough. He looks at it again, traces the shape of it with his fingers. It’s unmistakable; this is the tattoo.

He exhausts himself trying to figure out what is going on. He goes to bed early that night, but even as he closes his eyes, he sees the shape of the sun at the backs of his eyelids.

🃏

It still doesn’t make sense, the next day.

It doesn’t make sense when Taeil meets Donghyuck at the bar. It doesn’t make sense as they talk. Taeil puts effort into noticing how Donghyuck behaves, trying to pick up on anything strange, but there is nothing. It doesn’t make sense as they play a game of billiards again, as they sit at a table to sip drinks and talk.

It just doesn’t add up, no matter how Taeil looks at it: why would Donghyuck do any of that? Why would he set Taeil up, and then talk to him here, befriending him? It seems far-fetched even in his own mind, and he dismisses the thought as soon as he has it. Donghyuck is smart, but Taeil wants to believe he wouldn’t be capable of such deception.

Maybe most importantly, Taeil thinks, it seems that Donghyuck likes him. Taeil doesn’t miss Donghyuck’s lingering stares, even if he pretends that he doesn’t see them. Donghyuck even flirts with him, openly, without care of who sees and what they might think; he reaches out to Taeil, to put his hands on his shoulders or biceps or at the back of his neck, or he tells him he’s handsome and cute.

Taeil cannot imagine Donghyuck would pretend to that extent. Why would he, if the entire point of his exploits before was to get Taeil killed?

The whole notion is ridiculous, Taeil decides. Donghyuck pokes his cheek to get his attention, “Hey.”

Taeil looks at him, looks for deceit and hate in his eyes, and finds nothing of the sort. “Yes. Sorry.”

Donghyuck frowns and leans in closer to him, “You’re distracted. What were you thinking so hard about?”

Taeil considers it for a moment before deciding on the simplest truth. “You.”

Donghyuck brightens up, almost instantly, and with it Taeil’s chest expands with warmth. “Only good things, I hope?”

No, Taeil decides, it cannot be Donghyuck. “Of course.”

🃏

The next piece of information comes a few days later. Mark doesn’t call; maybe he doesn’t have the time. He sends a couple of texts instead. They are curt and to the point:

_Haechan_

_That should be their name_

“Haechan,” Taeil sounds it out, and the name feels heavy in the empty space of his bedroom. It doesn’t sound like a usual name, and it occurs to him that it must be a nickname. It isn’t enough to go on, and Taeil is sure Mark would have told him if there was more if the name led anywhere. It doesn’t help, but it is at least _something._

He considers going to Youngho with it but decides against it. He said he would take care of it himself – he is planning on sticking with his promise.

🃏

Taeil takes Donghyuck to his room. It isn’t really planned, but Taeil isn’t in the mood for the hushed, heavy atmosphere of the club tonight. He is, however, in the mood for Donghyuck’s company. Donghyuck doesn’t protest when Taeil invites him up.

Donghyuck admires the view from his windows for a while, looks out at the city skyline, at the buildings blistering in the afternoon sun. Taeil pours them both a drink from his personal stash, and together they sit at his sofa and talk. Taeil likes talking to Donghyuck – Donghyuck challenges him, intellectually. It feels like a battle at times, but neither of them is really winning. That makes it all that more exciting.

Still, though, whenever Donghyuck turns his head to the side, Taeil catches a glimpse of his tattoo, and for a splinter of a second he can’t help but wonder.

Taeil’s phone feels heavy where it’s stuffed in his pants’ pocket. He stands up to refill his glass, but he doesn’t sit back down next to Donghyuck. Instead he stands in front of the windows, thinking.

Donghyuck is saying something, a story from his youth. Taeil listens to his voice for a while, before he makes up his mind, and he interrupts him with a low, clear, “Haechan.”

Donghyuck falls silent, and Taeil braces himself before he looks back. Donghyuck is looking at him, and he seems confused, unsure of what Taeil just said and interrupted him with. Taeil’s veins spike, and he almost deflates with relief; it’s not Donghyuck, of course it isn’t—

But then Donghyuck’s expression changes, and he smiles, arrogant and confident. Taeil’s stomach bottoms out. Donghyuck says, “That took a while.”

Taeil says, breathless, “No.”

Donghyuck stands up, “Can you repeat it? I like how it sounds when you say it.”

Taeil doesn’t.

Donghyuck takes a step closer to him, “I know you’re smart, Taeil. I can’t believe it took you this long to figure it out.”

Taeil doesn’t know what to say. His mind is a mess – too many thoughts race through his head at once. His heart beats, fast, vicious in his chest – with disbelief, surprise, _anger,_ and at the heels of it there’s something else, something he can’t quite place, something warm and exciting, even.

He finds his voice at last, but he only manages to ask, “Why?”

“Why what?”

There is a plethora of questions in Taeil’s brain, all flying around at once, but he settles on, “Why are you here?”

“I needed to find you, after you left.” Donghyuck speaks calmly, evenly, the way he always does.

Taeil is hearing the words, but he doesn’t quite want to believe them. “You were stalking me?”

Donghyuck’s smile falls off his face in an instant, replaced by a frown and an intensity Taeil hasn’t seen before in him. “I was not. I am not a stalker. I don’t care what you do behind your closed doors. I am merely a fan of your work.”

Taeil blinks, and lets the words settle over him. It doesn’t take long for them to merge with Taeil’s thoughts, and his eyes widen with realization. “You are a copycat.”

“I am an admirer,” Donghyuck says, “What you do... I find it incredible. Inspiring.”

Taeil has no trouble believing the adoring tone of his voice, and suddenly he knows that Donghyuck is telling the truth. He feels faint.

Donghyuck takes another step closer, but Taeil steps back, away from him. Donghyuck stops, and shakes his head, “I am not a threat to you.”

Taeil replies, “You tried to get me killed.”

Donghyuck flinches at that, a shadow of regret passing over his face. “I only wanted you to notice me. I didn’t expect anyone to go after you. I didn’t think they would be that stupid.” He shrugs then, “I’m sorry about that, I really am, but I figured it wouldn’t be too much of a problem for you to take care of. I didn’t think you’d run away.”

For a moment, Taeil doesn’t know what to say. “How did you even find me? I thought Youngho made sure no one would be able to follow us.”

Donghyuck cocks his head to the side, “His attempts were mediocre at best. It took me no time at all to pick up on your trail. You’re lucky I was here to throw everyone else off your scent.”

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I wanted to,” Donghyuck admits, “But it was a good opportunity for us to get to know each other first. I don’t regret it.” He then seems to think something over, and takes one step back, “If you want me to leave, I will. If you tell me to go, I will never bother you again.”

With just one look at his face Taeil knows that he means it. He considers it – he could tell him to get lost, and this entire episode would be over. But Taeil considers also all that Donghyuck has done – and finds that he doesn’t have it in himself to deny him. There’s that need in him still, that longing within him that screams for an equal, for someone that would reach even close of Taeil’s level and understand him, and it’s this need that makes him say, “No.“ And then it’s his fear of being left alone that makes him say, “Don’t leave me.“

Donghyuck crosses the space between them to come stand right in front of Taeil, almost touching, but only barely, “Then go back with me. Return with me.” He motions at the room around them with one hand, “Or are you satisfied with this?“

Taeil shakes his head as he cranes it to look up at Donghyuck’s face, “I’m not.”

“I didn’t think you were.” Donghyuck puts his hands at the sides of Taeil’s face, and Taeil is faintly aware of his weak legs as they barely keep him up. He reaches for Donghyuck too, at the same time; he takes hold of his arms to help himself stay upright.

“You should be out there,” Donghyuck says, and Taeil knows he means the city, not this one but his own, his _home_ away from home. “Not cooped up here. You are Moon Taeil. Your name means something. They all should fear it.”

Every word he says steals the breath out of Taeil’s lungs. Donghyuck rests their forehead together and keeps looking into his eyes, waiting.

Taeil left with Youngho because he didn’t want to stay alone. He stayed here in Youngho’s proximity because he didn’t know how to be alone. Even now he doesn’t want to be alone; but he knows, if he asks Donghyuck to stay, he will. The knowledge sets him on fire, burns steadily and brightly and swallows him whole.

Taeil looks into Donghyuck’s shining eyes and in them he sees the image of the city and his future that looked bleak just mere hours ago. He knows that he will go; of course he will. Donghyuck knows this as well.

Taeil wraps his hands around his neck and leans in. He whispers it against Donghyuck’s lips.

🃏

Youngho catches them on their way out of the lobby. He spots Taeil first, then his gaze hovers over Donghyuck at Taeil’s side, and then finally he looks at the luggage Taeil is carrying.

They stop in front of each other. Youngho vaguely gestures to the luggage or to Donghyuck, Taeil is not sure which, “What are you up to?” He doesn’t ask in an accusing tone; his voice sounds curious.

“Oh,” Taeil says with a smile that he can’t keep off his lips, “Just the regular.”

They leave, and Taeil doesn’t look back. He never again looks back.

🃏

**Author's Note:**

> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/neocxxlture)|[twitter](https://twitter.com/kunyongx)


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